The Boundaries of Proper Etiquette
by DarkestCornerOfMyMind
Summary: Being a slave meant that one's rights had either been taken away or sold. It meant that Makoto's standing was far below a typical servant-rank. If Haruka, the young master of an elite family, was an ocean, then his servants were ponds. Makoto, at best, would be a puddle. Eventual Makoharu. Will contain mature themes.
1. The Slave and the Master

**I do not own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club or any of the characters in it. **

_Hey, so this is my first chapter story for Free! It will later contain mature themes, mystery, and a lot of Haruka being confused about his feelings. This takes place, more or less, around the early 1900's when Japan first started integrating Western culture into their own. I'm not a history person and quite frankly, I pull a lot of this stuff out from Kuroshitsuji and Yuuutsu no Asa. If any historical buffs out there could give me a hand, that would have a huge help. _

_Well then, please enjoy reading below._

* * *

Quiet. Stillness. The soft yellow light bathed the marble tiles. Nanase Haruka, age 17, sunk himself further down in the warm water and sighed contently. He loved this time; the time that he could get away from everyone and immerse himself within the hot steaming liquid which soothed his nerves.

Haruka's life rotated entirely around water. His family, as it were, had ancestors ranging from fishermen to pirates. Now they were in charge of a spring water import business with thriving results.

The water was starting to chill slightly but the young master didn't care. He merely sank lower and fancied himself swimming in a cool lake on a hot summer day. Eagerly, the water lapped at his ears as if begging him to give himself over wholly. Complying, Haruka slid down the edge of his bathtub until he was lying flat against the tiled floor...

The world was flipped upside down as a gloved hand plunged into the watery stillness and grasped his forearm. Fighting it, Haruka attempted to yank away but the hand was stronger and it pulled him back up to the surface.

Sputtering, he reared up angrily like an enraged cat and glared at the intruder of his private time. Soft green eyes accompanied by a gentle smile gazed back at him, unperturbed.

"My apologies, Master Haruka," his personal servant Makoto said respectfully. He released Haruka's arm and began to peel off his wet glove. "I felt nervous when I saw you sink under the water, Master Haruka. I thought that perhaps you had fallen asleep."

"I'm fine," Haruka muttered. He still felt bitter about being interrupted. "Now leave me alone."

"Yes Master," Makoto stood. Haruka noted that his knees, which must have gotten splashed on, were wet. "Again, I apologize for my unnecessary interference."

Haruka did not bother with a reply and merely once more sank below the water's surface.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Makoto was a slave.

The politer term to put it, Haruka supposed, would be an unpaid servant. However, that meant that Makoto was basically a slave.

Haruka was not entirely sure of his servant's backstory, nor was he interested, but he had drawn a few of his own conclusions during his daily ponderings in the bathtub. The factual thing he knew was that Makoto was the same age, only a few months younger.

Makoto had come to the Nanase household only a few weeks ago. He had a well-groomed appearance and a handsome face which sent the maids in to a flutter of excited whispers. Makoto had no last name, meaning that he was most likely a child from the slums, perhaps the son of a prostitute. Whoever he was, he had been presented in front of Haruka as his new manservant. He had been dressed in attire similar to a footman, but his right ear sported a silver triangle earring. "He's a slave," his father stated in a loud voice. This time it sent all of the servants into controversial murmurs.

Being a slave meant that one's rights had either been taken away or sold. It meant that Makoto's standing was far below a typical servant-rank. If Haruka, the young master of an elite family, was an ocean, then his servants were ponds. Makoto, at best, would be a puddle.

Haruka did not want a slave. Growing up in a noble family with parents with a loveless marriage often caused Haruka to live under benign neglect with the dutiful care of his domestic retainers. Haruka was usually alone, and he preferred it to be that way.

He disliked Makoto, with his permanent smile and grass green eyes. He disliked his often unfazed attitude and gentle words. Most of all, he disliked the obvious sadness lurking behind his cheerful façade, but was never hinted at. It seemed that the others, servants or his parents, did not see it. Or perhaps all slaves had the same look in their eyes.

Either way, Haruka did not appreciate Makoto's presence. And he was determined to have Makoto leave of his own volition no matter what.

**.**

**.**

**.**

... Was what Haruka was planning, but much to his frustration, Makoto's seemingly unlimited patience bested him.

The slave seemed to have a natural inclination towards forgiveness. No matter how many things he carelessly flung or spilled on the floor, no matter the terrible things he would offhandedly say, no matter how much he flat out _ignored_ him, Makoto would forever obey his orders or brush away his comments with that hated smile. There was not a speck of disgruntlement or anger to be seen, and Haruka was getting rather bored of acting like a spoiled brat. The young master was ordinarily self-sufficient and tried not to trouble his servants unless necessary.

Haruka, once more bathing in his beloved water, pondered of what exactly he could do to annoy his slave. Perhaps it was time to abuse his authority a little bit and force Makoto to do something he hated. But what did he hate? Haruka did not bother talking to him unless it was indispensable to his current need. Filling the bathtub was the most he had ever ordered him to do and even that was done with a cheery grin.

What could be done, he wondered, to make Makoto realize that he didn't want him?

Feeling tired from overthinking, he slowly shut his eyes and didn't open them again until Makoto came in an hour later to help him dress for bed. He hazily opened his eyes to frantic green eyes, a terrified voice, and a spinning room which made him feel the need to vomit.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Haruka opened his eyes again, he was lying in his large and comfortable bed, the ceiling lights swimming in his vision. _Oh,_ he thought blearily_, I got sick again_.

It didn't surprise him, at least not anymore. Since he frequently spent time swimming or bathing, occasionally he would get carried away and the water would get too cold for him. Then he would spend the next couple days in a foul mood because he wasn't allowed to even touch any bodies of water until he was completely healed, not that he always obeyed this rule. The servants would often avoid his room during these times, only stopping by to drop off trays of hot food for him to ignore because he wasn't hungry or up to it. Often times he would force them into filling his bathtub for him even if he was sick. They never refused him for long.

He sighed, irritated at himself for being so weak, and turned on his side to go back to sleep. He felt a slight tug on his bed sheets as if they were caught on something. Confused, he twisted his head to see a familiar mop of brown hair lying on the side of the mattress.

Swallowing a surprised noise, he gazed at Makoto, who had fallen asleep at his bedside with his head in his arms. Why was he here? Didn't he have the common sense to stay away like the rest of the servants? Being a new slave was no exception; he supposed it was the fault of the head butler for not informing him properly.

He felt a scowl form on his face. Grabbing Makoto by the shoulder, he shook him roughly, calling, "Hey, you. Wake up."

The slave made an undignified sound and lifted his head enough for Haruka to see one sleepy green eye. "Haru-_chan_...?"

Blue eyes widening in shock, he gave Makoto a hefty slap on the back of his head. Yelping, Makoto sat up immediately, rubbing the painful spot with a grimace.

"Since when are slaves allowed to address their masters with noble-use honorfics?" Haruka demanded, practically spitting acid. Makoto gasped and immediately rectified his mistake.

"I am so sorry!" he cried, looking as if he were about to cry. "I didn't mean to say such things, Master Haruka! I am sorry!" Makoto slid out of his chair to the floor and performed a dogeza on the ground, face pressed hard in to the carpet. "Please forgive me!"

Haruka was shocked to say the least. Makoto was usually so calm and collected that it was strange to see him act so frantic and scared. The change in attitude made him feel uncomfortable and he reached over the side of his bed to tug a lock of brown hair. "I'm not mad," he muttered. "I just – "

Suddenly a wave of nausea swept over him and he wobbled. In a flash, Makoto had the nearby wastebasket in his hands and under Haruka's face. "Here," Makoto coaxed him. Haruka retched and coughed, but it even if he felt it coming, it didn't.

"It won't come up," he muttered. His skin was starting to turn sickly pale and it felt sticky with sweat. He hated of how weak he appeared and hated that it was Makoto seeing him like this. He didn't even notice Makoto removing his gloves with his teeth until he felt a large hand on the back of his head.

"Please excuse me, but this is necessary," Makoto murmured gently. Haruka opened his mouth to demand an explanation when suddenly Makoto's long pointer finger was in his mouth and pressing against his uvula.

Haruka gagged and vomited straight in to the wastebasket. Makoto soothingly rubbed circles on his back with his clean hand as he emptied the little contents of his stomach. Coughing the last out, he felt Makoto wiping his mouth with his hand and promptly slapped it away. "That's dirty!" he managed to growl.

"But do you feel better?" Makoto asked with his damned smile. Haruka, too proud to admit it, turned his head to the side in a pout. He heard a soft chuckle and hated it.

"Please go back to sleep if you can," Makoto requested in a soft but firm voice. "Sleep is often the best medicine."

"I don't want to sleep," Haruka tried to sit up and failed. "Fill the bath. If I soak in hot water long enough, I can heal myself."

"No, Master Haruka," Makoto said even more firmly, pushing him down again with his clean hand. "Orders from the Master and Mistress. They say you are absolutely not allowed to bathe again until you completely break your fever. Bathing is the reason you became sick in the first place. What if your fever becomes worse?"

"It won't," Haruka snapped, squirming. His nightwear stuck to his skin with sweat and he hated the feeling. "Just obey my orders."

"I refuse."

Haruka shot him a glare with narrow eyes. None of the servants ever refused him anything if pushed. "You would defy your master?"

"Only for the sake of your wellbeing," Makoto pushed him down for the final time and tucked in the covers so snugly that Haruka, in his weakened state, could barely move. "Please go back to sleep. I will wash my hands and return shortly."

The door shut quietly behind him and Haruka scowled as he struggled. Unfortunately the struggling made him feel more and more tired and he soon gave up, once more slipping in to unconsciousness.

**.**

**.**

**.**

A cool, wet, welcomed feeling was gently caressing his body, cooling his fevered skin. Confused, Haruka reached out and grabbed on to somebody's warm hand, soaked with cold water. He heard soft splashing and his eyes snapped open.

Makoto jumped in surprise, almost dropping the small wet towel in his hand. "My goodness. You surprised me, Master Haruka," he exclaimed. The dim light next to the bed gave his silver earring a dull shine. Haruka ignored him and instead turned his head to stare at the small basin on his bedside table. He could see the clear liquid within and felt himself swallow.

"Oh, are you thirsty, Master Haruka?" Makoto asked, surprising him. "I brought a pitcher of water. Please wait a moment."

Makoto retreated from sight and from somewhere across the room, Haruka's ears caught the sound of pouring water and he attempted to sit upright. Feeling a cool breeze, he looked down and was shocked to see that he was half naked.

Makoto came back with a glass cup of water in his hand, which he handed to Haruka. Haruka glared at him, wondering why he had removed his clothes.

"Are you wondering why I undressed you?" Makoto asked politely. Haruka blinked. Again, had his slave read his mind...? "Earlier I noticed that you were squirming around as if you felt uncomfortable. I guessed that you wanted to bathe because you were sweating so much. I couldn't let you bathe, but the least I can do for you is to wipe you down," he gestured to the basin and towel. "After you have finished your water, please allow me to continue."

Haruka mentally weighed his options and had to admit to himself that he felt better with his skin being sweat-free. He nodded his consent and he saw Makoto's face light up with a dazzling smile.

Putting the cup to his lips, he thirstily gulped down the refreshing liquid until none of it remained. Makoto took back the cup and put it down on the bedside table before once more picking up the wet towel. "Please give me your arm, Master Haruka."

Haruka complied and felt Makoto's hand take it in his gentle but strong grip. Leaning back into his pillows, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of being washed. Haruka hated being bathed by his servants because their touch was flighty and nervous, as if they were going to break something made of delicate glass. Makoto's touch was self-assured and strong, but at the same time, tender and it felt pleasant. If it was Makoto who bathed him, Haruka mused, he supposed he wouldn't mind.

"Would you like me to help you bathe from now on?" Makoto's voice cut in to his thoughts with unnerving precision. Snapping open his eyes, he stared into Makoto's emerald green eyes suspiciously.

"How are you doing that?"

"How am I doing what?"

"How are you able to tell what I'm thinking?"

Makoto blinked. Then he smiled, a bit incredulously. "Isn't it obvious from the faces you are making?"

It was Haruka's turn to blink, bewildered. For so long his servants at secretly complained behind his back about his expressionless behavior, about how it was so difficult to understand him. Having someone who was able to read his immobile face threw him for a loop.

"No one has ever said that to me before," was all he said aloud. Makoto tilted his head, a little confused.

"Really?" Makoto mused for a moment before his smile, somehow not quite so irritating anymore, blossomed on his face. "I suppose there is a difference."

"A difference of what?"

"Between the other servants and I," Makoto slipped a hand behind Haruka's head and bent it forward to that he could wash the nape of his neck. "Because I am Master Haruka's personal slave, you are the one I am most attentive to. So I am able to read your expressions easily."

Haruka, for some reason, started to feel sulky again. "Because my parents put you up to it, right," he muttered.

"That is incorrect," Makoto said firmly, again surprising his master. "I am the one who requested to become your slave, Master Haruka."

"What?" this was the first time Haruka had heard of such a thing. "Why...?"

"..." Makoto remained silent for a pensive moment. "'Why' indeed," he murmured. His grip on the back of Haruka's head tightened momentarily. Haruka was very suddenly aware that Makoto was sitting far too close. Their faces were mere inches apart from each other.

Slowly, Makoto's hand moved from his hair to his cheek in a smooth motion. Unconsciously holding his breath, Haruka felt as if he was drowning in pools of forest green.

"Master Haruka," Makoto said in a tone much lower than his usual voice. "You are very important to me. I cannot tell you why or how but... please allow me to tell you this: Master Haruka is very special to me, more so than the Master and Mistress," he smiled and Haruka was struck by the realization that Makoto was, in fact, very attractive. "Master Haruka is my only Master, and I am proud to be your slave."

An odd tingly feeling followed by a burning hot sensation flared through Haruka's face and he watched as Makoto's serious expression morphed into one of astonishment.

"Your face is turning even redder," Makoto smiled, speaking in his normal light tone again. He took his hand away and reached for the towel. "Please get some rest. I'll go request food from the kitchens," he made to stand up but then Haruka grabbed on to his sleeve. "Master Haruka?"

_... Stay here_, blue eyes implored. Makoto's smile, now beautiful instead of irritating, made Haruka's chest feel tight.

"Very well," Makoto smiled. "Then I'll stay here until you fall asleep, Master Haruka."

Makoto tugged his sleeve out of Haruka's grip, much to the young master's disappointment, but he seated himself in his earlier chair by his bedside. Blue eyes communicated what he was too proud – or scared – to ask.

"I'll be here when you wake up," Makoto comforted, reaching out to stroke his hair. "Please, go to sleep."

The oceanic eyes eventually slid shut to the rhythm of Makoto's soft breathing. So deeply asleep Haruka was, that he did not feel Makoto's head leave his forehead, nor did he here the soft click of the door as he left the room. However, as though as a breeze had crossed the room, he pulled his blankets tighter towards himself, as if desperate not to lose something close at hand.

**.**

**.**

**.**

When Haruka opened his eyes the next morning, both his fever and Makoto were gone.

He abruptly sat up and immediately regretted it as a bout of dizziness took hold. His stomach growled loudly – he hadn't eaten anything for a full day.

_I should have guessed that he wouldn't be here,_ Haruka sulked. _All the servants are the same in the end... they only do things out of duty. Even making empty promises just to get me out of their hair_ –

His train of melodramatic thought was abruptly stopped as the door swung open and Makoto stood there with a tray laden with breakfast. "Oh no! You're awake?" Makoto said, a crease between his eyebrows. "I am terribly sorry, Master Haruka. I only went out to get your breakfast..."

"What are you sorry for?" Haruka asked grumpily, secretly relieved.

"For not being here when you woke up. Isn't that what you are angry about right now?"

Haruka visibly stiffened and turned his head away quickly. How _was_ Makoto able to do that? His body posture was too easy to read, it seemed, because he heard Makoto chuckle.

"Like I have said before," Makoto said softly, "I only look at Master Haruka."

Again the warm feeling seemed to echo within him, and Haruka could feel his face once more turning scarlet.

"Ah, your face is turning red again! Is your fever not completely gone?"

"... S-Shut up. Idiot."

* * *

In this world, honorfics are only allowed to be used by those of noble standing, like Haruka and his parents. Servants and slaves are strictly banned from such usage. Nobles are allowed to use honorfics towards servants and slaves, but it isn't often used. The honorfics are often used between nobles as a sign of respect or as a sign of closeness. Calling the first name flat out without honorfics is also allowed, though only between particularly close friends or relatives.

Slaves are usually meant to wear a single distinguishing triangle shaped earring on the right to tell them apart from other servants. The material may vary depending on both the context of their position and the standing of their masters. Business-owning officials like the Nanase family would have their slaves wear silver earrings. Top of the ladder (prime ministers) could have gold. Rare jewel earrings often go to female slaves who are used as sexual pleasure or at most acknowledged as a concubine. Below the Nanase family's standing, other slave owners may use cheaper materials like copper.


	2. The Scent of Perfume

**Natalie Edelstein: **Thank you so much for the praise! I hope that I can write a mystery juicy enough to sink your teeth into~ As the first reviewer for this story, would you like some kind of prize? A oneshot fanfic? Or perhaps if you have an idea to inject into the story, I can work it in?

**Akiyuzu-chan:** It's the first time anyone has said something that nice to me~ I don't think this topic is too used in Free! fandoms though? Or are you talking about the general fandoms out there?

**Shin-kai Syndrome:** Makoto's personality is a little... different in this fanfic, but you can only say it is expected once you learn of the life he's led. I plan to explore it more in the next chapter, so please keep reading. :)

**I do not own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club or any of the characters in it. **

_Thank you all who read my previous chapter. In this second one, I took the advice from a senpai and tried to explore Haruka's character a little more. I hope to improve in writing as time goes on, so please give me tips if possible about anything in my writing style that you think I should change. I would appreciate it._

* * *

Haruka was used to getting what he wanted.

Obviously it was because he was the son of an elite family with money to spare, but it was also because Haruka did not actually demand that much. The only frustrating things about him were his stoic attitude and his obsessive love for water.

But none of the maids or butlers could ever say that he ever made unreasonable demands. If he ever broke or spilled something, he himself would take the responsibility to clean it up. Though he was prideful, he knew when to show humility and apologize for his actions. And if he was ever angry, it wasn't because of selfish reasons, it was always about the other person's sake.

Like the time where the house steward's youngest son called Haruka 'Haruka-san' and used the honorfics by accident. Haruka had slapped the young boy, not even six years old, across the face and ordered him to never do it again. The young boy, lesson learned, stopped immediately. Now he would never make the same mistake and could avoid punishment from people who were less lenient.

But as that particular incident showed, Haruka was incredibly clumsy when it came to social interaction. That same young boy was now terrified of Haruka and ran away anytime he saw him. It never occurred to Haruka that hitting the child for disrespect was a bad thing; he himself had gotten hit plenty by his parents or his deceased grandmother as a child. Often it was because he couldn't stop his mouth from saying what was on his brain. Perhaps that was why he didn't talk much as he grew older.

Speaking soon became a chore because everyone misunderstood or considered him an odd. Surrounded by such people, Haruka didn't bother conveying his thoughts anymore. It seemed so pointless and superficial...

At least until Makoto came along.

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Master Haruka, would you like any tea?"

"..."

"Ah, you would prefer water? Then I will go fetch a fresh pitcher for you."

Sitting on the wide window seat, Haruka watched as Makoto exited from the room, wondering just how he looked in his servant's green eyes. Perhaps his face showed more emotion than he thought? Glancing at the mirror, his reflection difficult to see because of the rain and dim lighting, stared back at him in total apathy. Haruka wondered if he were struck down right at that instant, would his reflection change expression at all?

Somewhat entertained by the idea, he fancied that at the other side of the mirror or window there was an entire world just like the one he was in. But perhaps everything there was in reverse, like the mirror reflections themselves. Or maybe they were upside down in which the ceiling was the floor, but since it was under their feet it would be a floor instead of a ceiling. Did they call it a ceiling because it was the opposite of floor? But how could a floor be a ceiling and a ceiling be a floor? Maybe –

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the door swing open behind him and he looked around, hoping that it was Makoto and his water. To his disappointment, however, it was just another one of the maids – he didn't know her name nor did he care – holding his desired pitcher of water. She set it down quietly on the nearby dresser and bowed nervously, fiddling with her serving yukata. "Do you require anything else, Young Master Haruka?"

"..."

She looked increasingly terrified. "Y-Young Master?"

Haruka mentally sighed. Well, at least he knew how his other servants viewed him. "No..."

"Oh! T-Then I shall take my leave," she bowed again quickly and had her hand on the doorknob before Haruka called out to her again.

"What happened to Makoto?"

"Ah," the servant girl managed to fix a glib smile on her face. "He was called away for another matter. He asked me to give this to you," she pointed at the pitcher. "He said to tell you that it would only take an hour or so to complete his task. Well then, please excuse me," and she hurried away without another word.

Haruka stared accusingly at the pitcher, as if it were its fault for not bringing Makoto back with it. "Well," he muttered, "it's not like I need anyone to pour the water for me," he grabbed a glass cup nearby and filled it with his favorite liquid. The refreshing taste of pure spring water soothed his taste buds and irritation and he sighed contently.

His bookshelf was made especially for him out of polished mahogany wood and filled to the brim with empty sketchbooks. It had been a gift from his previous art teacher, who had constantly swooned over Haruka's immense talent. Of course, both of his parents thought that his ability was useless and had nothing to do with the family business so art was still merely a hobby for him. A pleasurable hobby perhaps, but a hobby nonetheless.

He had filled up about one-third of the sketchbooks, leaving more than half of them empty. Selecting a new one, he opened up to a fresh page and picked up a pencil. He sat himself back down at the window seat and stared outside. The rain was beautiful and, in the sun, made everything glisten with light. But right now it was cold and dark and not exactly the ideal picture for drawing. Haruka was in the mood to draw something more cheerful anyway.

Closing his eyes lazily, he leaned back with his head against the wall and waited for inspiration to take him and whisk him on his merry way.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Two and a half sketches of Makoto later, Haruka was getting rather bored.

Tracing the jawline with light strokes, he wondered what sort of body his servant had underneath all those clothes. The only skin he had ever seen was of Makoto's face and hands. Otherwise, his servant had remained fully clothed. His artist senses tingled – he was sure that Makoto had a sculptured body, fit for art.

There was a series of quiet knocks on his door and Haruka's eyes lit up. He recognized that rhythm easily. "Come in."

Makoto stepped in, his green eyes clearly apologetic. "I'm sorry, Master Haruka. I was called away for other duties and couldn't come back sooner."

"It's fine," Haruka looked down at his sketchbook. For some reason, seeing Makoto in real life and imagining what he was like with his clothes off put a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"What are you drawing, Master Haruka? May I have a look?"

Haruka held out the sketchbook to him without complaint and watched Makoto's expression carefully as he examined the two and a half drawings. First Makoto's eyebrows creased slightly in confusion, then they went up in surprise. And then, to the young master's secret relief, those beautiful green eyes lit up, shining so brightly that they could put diamonds to shame.

"I am very flattered, Master Haruka," Makoto chuckled softly, his eyes still glowing with happiness. "I never imagined that Master Haruka could draw so well."

"It's just a hobby," Haruka grumbled, somewhat embarrassed. He reached out to take the sketchbook back and scrutinized the differences between his sketch and the real thing. Makoto leaned over to tap lightly on the unfinished sketch.

"Will you please show me this one when you are done?" he asked.

"... Sure," Haruka replied. Makoto drew away but then his master caught him on the arm.

"Master Haruka?"

"... Before, did one of the women call you out?"

"Hm? ... I suppose you could say that. Why do you ask, Master Haruka?"

"... No reason," Haruka let go of his sleeve and sat back. Makoto smiled curiously at him and turned around towards his bookshelf of sketchbooks.

"If possible, may I have a look at these as well?"

"Sure," Haruka said, his mind not processing anything Makoto said. Because at that moment, that small moment of where Makoto had come close to him to look at his drawings, Haruka had caught an unmistakable scent wafting off the taller male.

The scent of a lady's perfume...

**.**

**.**

**.**

"My friends are coming over to visit me this Saturday," Haruka said as Makoto scrubbed his back for him. Both teens were in the bathroom. Haruka, much do his disappointment, was the only one naked. Makoto still kept fully clothed even at the expense of getting them wet.

"Oh? Shall I prepare the guest room for them?" Makoto asked, pouring a bucket of hot water on Haruka's back to wash off the suds.

"Yeah, two of them. And possibly two more for their servants."

"Very well then," Makoto reached for a container of shampoo. "Just out of curiosity, who are your friends?"

"One of them is a childhood friend and the current owner of his family business. The other one is the son of the Prime Minister," the young master said offhandedly.

"Oh, I see. That is very admirable for someone of Master Haruka's age to run his own – " there was a loud clattering noise and Haruka turned in alarm. Fortunately, the shampoo was unharmed. Makoto's face was gaping with shock. "T-The son of the Prime Minister? _The_ Prime Minister?" he squeaked. It was funny to hear such a high-pitched voice come out of such a huge body.

"Yeah..."

"... Master Haruka, I had no idea that you had such influential friends."

"He's just an annoying person who latched himself on to me," Haruka said dismissively. He heard Makoto laugh softly behind him and he frowned without turning around. "What?"

"I'm a little sad," Makoto's tone was light and teasing. The young master shuddered as he could feel the soft warm breath on his bare neck. "I thought I was the only one who could see Master Haruka's good points."

_Ah, he doesn't smell like perfume anymore..._

"You're annoying," Haruka dipped his hand into a bucket of water and swept upwards to splash his servant in the face. Makoto gave a shout of surprise before lapsing into coughing; some of the water had gotten in his nose.

"That wasn't nice, Master Haruka," Makoto choked out, pushing back his wet bangs. Haruka, watching the water drip down his face and down towards his neck, inadvertently swallowed. "Well, at any rate, I will prepare the best room and comfort for your friends. Just leave it to me."

"Of course," the blue-eyed teen scoffed as he picked himself up to step into the bathtub. "You wouldn't be worthy of being my servant otherwise."

"_Slave_, Master Haruka. There is a difference."

"I hate that word. Stop using it."

"Yes, Master."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"HARU-CHAN!"

Haruka winced in surprise as a shorter overenthusiastic blonde flung himself at him. It was unpleasant to be interrupted from a daydream in your bed by getting pounced on by a shota. "Nagisa...!"

"Haru-chan! I've missed you so much! Why don't you come visit me? How come you haven't written me a letter? Haru-chan!"

"Nagisa, you're too noisy. Shut up for a bit," Haruka grumbled, rubbing at his temples. He waved away the escorting maid, who looked appalled by the situation. "Shouldn't the future Prime Minister have a little more dignity?"

"Just because my old man is the Prime Minister doesn't mean that I have to be," Hazuki Nagisa shrugged carelessly. He was only a few inches shorter than Haruka, with blonde hair, pink eyes, and a cheery attitude that seemed to brighten the room; or, in Haruka's case, irritated his eyes. "My sisters are better at that political mumbo-jumbo than me. One of them can be the Prime Minister."

"Girls can't be Prime Ministers."

"Who says? Girls can do anything that boys can. They just talk too much sometimes, that's all," Nagisa flopped down on to the red velvet couch of Haruka's room. "My sisters are strong, you know? They used to bully me all the time as kids too! It was really difficult for me!"

"You've already told me," Haruka sat down in the armchair next to the couch. "Is Rin coming soon?"

"Rin-chan should be here soon. He lives in the opposite direction than me from Haru-chan's house," Nagisa pouted. "Because of that, it's so tedious to visit him! It's a good thing that Haru-chan's house is right between ours!"

"Even so, don't use my house as a meeting point!" Haruka grumbled, feeling particularly aggravated. It was so obvious that even Nagisa paused mid-rant and peered at his friend's face.

"Haru-chan, are you alright? Did I come at a bad time? If that's the case, then I can just go meet up with Rin-chan and go back to his house..."

Immediately Haruka felt guilty. "No, it's okay. You can stay," he said quickly. "It's just..."

Nagisa frowned as Haruka's voice drifted off. "Haru-chan! I'm not a mind-reader, as awesome as that would be! You need to clearly say what you're thinking!" he

"... My manservant was called away for some kind of 'duty'," Haruka had to resist the temptation to use air quotes. "He left this morning and hasn't come back yet."

"Oh! Haru-chan, have you gotten a new servant? A personal one? What's his name?"

"Makoto."

"... Makoto?"

"Just Makoto. He doesn't have a last name."

"Oh. Oh! I see..." Nagisa mused into thoughtful silence. "He must be a great guy, huh?"

Haruka blinked. "Huh? Why do you say that?"

"Because if Haru-chan misses him so much already, then he must have been nice to have around!" the blonde gave him a cheeky grin. "When he comes back, make sure you introduce him to me, okay?"

"... Okay," Haruka gave him a rare tiny smile.

"Ah, did he ever tell you how to spell his name?"

"... Why would he know? Makoto shouldn't know how to read or write."

"Ah, that's true isn't it... most servants or lower-working class people don't know how to read or write, do they?"

"Most of the servants here don't."

"Hmm... then, when I'm Prime Minister, I'll open up a free-of-charge school that anybody can go to! Wouldn't it be good if everyone could have an education?"

"Didn't you say that you would let one of your sisters be the Prime Minister?"

"Don't nitpick over details, Haru-chan!"

Haruka sighed. Nagisa spoke of giving everyone an education while his own education was slightly questionable judging from his grades... not that Haruka could really talk.

Soon they were engaged in a lively discussion – well, lively as in Nagisa was spouting ideas and Haruka was quietly listening – of how to revamp the education system when a young man with matching wine red eyes and hair burst into the room.

"Sorry for being late," Matsuoka Rin apologized, his face looking harried. "My new servant got a little too curious with exploring your house, Haru," he pushed Nagisa's legs aside, still sprawled out on the couch, and plopped down next to him. Nagisa giggled as he draped his legs in Rin's lap. Rin gave him an affectionate slap on the back. "It's been a while, the two of you. How have you been?"

"Listen to this, Rin-chan! Haru-chan and I were discussing what it would be like if we could give the uneducated an education!"

"... But how would they be uneducated if they're educated? What would we call that?"

"Exactly!"

"What?!"

Haruka gave a quiet snort of disbelief. Sinking himself further down into the armchair he shut his eyes and let the bickering voices of his two friends wash over him.

He and Rin had known each other as children, considering that their families were in the same business and had reached a peaceful alliance between them. The only difference was that Rin's father had died when he was very young, making him the sole inheritor of the business. Determined at such a young age, Rin succeeded his father's work at twelve-years-old, rising to become a corporate star in the commerce industry. There had been many rough patches in his youth, as well as rocky areas in his friendship with Haruka, but Nagisa had stepped in like a blessed bridge, connecting them when they fell apart.

Nagisa may have been the son of the Prime Minister of all of Japan, but in reality he was just a giggly kid with a mischievous mind and an attitude permanently turned to immaturity. However, that didn't mean that the blonde didn't know how to be serious. Sympathetic to the nobles and commoners alike, Nagisa treated them all fairly with equal compassion. He loved the people of Japan, and its conspicuousness caused many to hope that he would be the next successor for ruling the country.

Nagisa and Haruka had been introduced through Rin, who had offered – without Haruka's knowledge – to let Nagisa be a guest in the Nanase household. It was the first time Haruka had ever seen someone with natural blonde hair. There were rumors that Nagisa was the son of a foreigner woman whom his father had an affair with... then again, considering that his would-be adoptive mother had died giving birth, the gossip was considered unimportant and untrue.

"Like I was saying, Rin-chan – "

"Will you listen to me, dammit?!"

There was a sharp knock on the door, sounding almost frantic. Haruka's heart leapt into his throat as his blue eyes instantly snapped open. "Enter!"

Makoto rushed in, his hair frazzled and his tie not quite put on straight. "I am so, so sorry, Master Haruka! My appointment carried on more than I thought it would. Please give me a moment to straighten myself...!" he began adjusting his tie when he realized that he and his master weren't alone. "Oh, are you Master's friends? My name is Makoto. I am Master Haruka's personal sla – servant. It is a pleasure to meet you," he bowed respectfully. Nagisa giggled at his mussed hair.

"Calm down, Makoto," Haruka reached out to smooth his hair for him, but when he pulled up close to him his nose couldn't help but wrinkle.

_Again, the scent of perfume... but it's a different scent this time._

He opened his mouth to order Makoto to tell him exactly where he had been, only to realize that his servant's green eyes were not looking at him at all. Instead they were staring straight at his redhead friend, who had the exact same stunned expression on his face.

"R-Rin?"

"Makoto?"

* * *

_It's a little shorter this time, but it is finals week at college (four down, one more to go and one more paper to do, whoo~). During break I hope to upload more... and to continue with my left off stories from other fandoms. Haha... ha... *sighs in depression*_


	3. The Desire Burning

**Guest:** I always get happy when guest readers comment. It makes me feel like I'm writing something worth reading. Thank you so much!

**Akiyuzu-chan:** Oh, I see. Thank you for reviewing again, I appreciate it. :)

**Natalie Edelstein:** I am so sorry about this late update (I really just should have sent you an AN). For your prize fic, would you like anything specific? Like pairing, situation, age, setting... anything in particular? Everyone in this series is ridiculously ship-able so I think I'm up for anything. And I'll agree with you; description isn't my forte, but Haruka's thinking a lot about Makoto in this chapter, so...

**Gwynhafra:** Thank you so much for your review~! I hope this chapter makes you smile (or blush, whatever works).

**Magua:** Haha, I always prefer Makoto as the seme because I just can't do heavily muscled ukes... and Makoto... isn't really used for the women in the mansion per say. At least not all of them. Your English isn't bad at all! I personally think that all non-Americans speak better English... grammatically-wise at least.

**lilypond8:** It's alright, I don't leave a lot of reviews myself. I hope you can review more though. :) You're also free to give me criticisms if you feel the need.

**Blue reminisce: **Thank you! I hope you like this longer chapter!

**Shin-kai Syndrome:** Actually I think that Makoto could pull off being a host. He says sweet things like its nothing without getting embarrassed, like in episode 9 when he complimented the girls while Rei and Nagisa stared at him like 'HOLY SHIT HE'S SMOOTH'. The only thing he wouldn't be able to do is say it insincerely like some modern day hosts do. Perhaps this shall be my next AU, hohoho~

**Lulubell12345678:** Thank you! Sorry for the wait!

**I do not own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club or any of the characters in it. **

_Thanks for sticking with me for this long. You all are wonderful people. I honestly did not expect this many reviews. Please enjoy the contents below._

* * *

Nagisa had never known silence to be so tangible.

Perhaps it's not the silence itself, he acknowledged as he stretched himself out a little more on the stiff red velvet couch. He traced the little loopy swirls designed all over the cushion with the tip of his index finger, while at the same time lightly nudging Rin in the stomach with his foot. The redhead, surprisingly enough, did not notice. Nor did he even twitch.

_Booooring_, Nagisa thought, propping his chin on his hand. His elbow sank down in to the cushion.

He had also never realized that Haru-chan could look so confused. The blue-haired teen was looking in between his servant and friend with his brows furrowed. Such a rare look, Nagisa mused.

He took a peek at Haruka's supposed 'servant'. Nagisa wasn't stupid. He had noticed the silver triangle earring right off the bat. He also noticed something a little _different_ about this earring. Usually the triangle earrings were pierced a little higher up on the cartilage of the ear, like the tags farmers used to sort their livestock. This earring was down lower directly on the lobe of the ear. _A specialized slave? You don't see many of those anymore_, Nagisa thought. _I thought the practice was illegal. Guess not...?_

His pink eyes ran over Makoto's handsome features and broad frame. His gaze darted to Haruka, who looked like he was at the end of his patience.

_Makoto..._ his lips pressed together in a sly smile. _Mako-chan, huh...?_

.

.

.

"Makoto. _Makoto_."

Makoto snapped out of his dazed trance and his green eyes zoned back to Haruka immediately. Right. Rin was here. Hazuki Nagisa. Master Haruka. Right.

"My deepest apologies, Master Haruka," Makoto said, all sunshine and politeness again. There was a thin film of sweat on his brow that did not go unnoticed. "I was quite surprised. I did not know you were acquainted with Lord Matsuoka Rin."

Clearly he was lying between his teeth. Haruka furrowed his brow. Makoto had just called Rin 'Rin' without any honorfics at all. Only family or close friends of noble blood were allowed to do such a thing. Had it not only been the four of them – the Matsuokas were reputed for being the kindest slave owners and Nagisa was a huge equal rights supporter – Makoto could have possibly been forced to perform _hara-kiri_.

"Mako – "

"AHHH! ENOUGH!"

Everyone jumped, including Rin who dislodged the shouter from his lap. "Honestly!" Nagisa swung his legs around so that he was sitting upright. "The atmosphere in here is terrible! Haru-chan, Rin-chan, and Mako-chan too! You're all too tense!" he scolded.

"Mako-chan?" asked Rin.

"Mako-chan?" asked Haruka.

"Mako-chan!" the blonde grinned at the looks on his friends' faces. "It's a cute name, don't you think?" he addressed Makoto directly this time. The servant looked taken aback.

"What you wish to call me, Lord Hazuki – " Makoto started to say before the bubbly Prime Minster heir cut him off.

"Call me Nagisa! Or Master Nagisa. Either one works," he tilted his head and his pink eyes twinkled mischievously, well aware of the trap in his words.

"... Master Nagisa then, seeing that I have no choice..." Makoto's lips also took on a faint smile. His green eyes flickered towards the redhead casually, as if they had only just met. "Do you have a preference as well, Lord Matsuoka?"

"... Master Rin or whatever works," Rin replied quietly. His lips pressed together as if suppressing other things he wanted to say.

"Very well then," Makoto bowed towards all of them and kept his light trademark smile on his face. "Dinner shall be served at 5 o'clock. I hope that you shall enjoy your meal tonight."

Haruka did not miss the odd tone of finality. "... Do you still need to go somewhere?"

"Ah, yes. I have been called away again for a certain duty," Makoto's eyes were gentle. They gave a truly regretful impression. "I am sorry that I cannot be here with you, Master Haruka."

"... It's fine," Haruka muttered, turning his face away. His expressive blue eyes turned a shade duller. "When will you be back?"

"Perhaps by ten o'clock tonight," Makoto replied. "I will return in time to help you with your bath, Master Haruka."

"But didn't you just come back?" Nagisa interjected, once more lying on his stomach, his chin supported by the armrest. "What was the point of coming back then going again?"

"Oh, I wanted to see Master Haruka before I had to leave again. This job seems to be much more taxing," Makoto replied easily. "Seeing Master Haruka beforehand lifted my spirits."

With his face still turned away, a light blush came over Haruka's face. Nagisa and Rin, who both noticed, glanced at each other. Nagisa's face had a soft smile, while Rin's depicted a light frown.

"Well then, Master Haruka. I will see you in a few hours," Makoto bowed formally towards all of them once again. His master nodded, his face back to its usual color and blankness.

Makoto frowned.

"Oh yes," he clapped his hands together, his expression lighting up as if he had just remembered something. "Master Haruka, there are private matters that I need to address with you. I'm terribly sorry to ask, but could I humbly ask you to step outside with me for a moment?"

Surprised, Haruka's eyes widened fractionally. It was not the request he minded, but the company of the people they were with. A slave requesting something of the master was highly irregular. If it were only he and Makoto alone, he wouldn't have minded. But proper etiquette needed to be seen to. Again, Haruka was glad that it was only Nagisa and Rin. A request would not earn _hara-kiri_, though it may have earned him a flogging.

He quietly followed Makoto out from his room and the two of them stood in the dusky hallway. The other servants were busy preparing for dinner, and his parents were probably still either in the study or their room. Ordinarily, another servant would be waiting outside of the door to wait on Haruka and his friends, but he had dismissed them so often that they no longer bothered. If Haruka needed one, he would call for them via the bell pulley system.* In other words, they were completely alone.

Perhaps that is why Makoto chose to be so bold.

Haruka felt a gloved hand press to his cheek and he had to swallow a gasp. Makoto's face came close to his, as close as it had the night had had been sick, and he once more felt as if he were swimming in glimmering green eyes. He was made uncomfortably aware of how much taller his slave was, having to tilt his head backwards to meet his gaze.

"Master Haruka," his normally light and polite voice was lower and suddenly sensual. The gloved thumb rubbed small circles on his cheek. "I apologize."

Caught off guard, Haruka could only blink and stare. Makoto continued to speak.

"I am sorry I cannot stay with you, as you desire," Makoto murmured. His breath ghosted over Haruka's face, making him shudder. "I am not happy about having to spend so much time away from you when I am supposed to be _your_ servant. But my duties are unavoidable, though I would like to be by your side..."

"Then don't go," Haruka's voice was raspy to the point where he couldn't recognize it himself. "Stay."

Was it his imagination, or were Makoto's eyes glowing? He heard his slave's breathing hitch as Haruka lifted a hand to clasp the gloved one on his cheek. He pressed it harder to his flesh and wished that the glove would magically disappear. He wanted to feel Makoto, to feel his warmth.

"Master Haruka..."

"Stay," Haruka whispered. "This is an order."

He felt the hand on his cheek tighten. "I... I cannot. Even if it is an order from you, Master Haruka, I cannot. For that, I sincerely apologize."

"But I am your only Master," Haruka objected, his voice rising slightly in volume. "That is what you said to me. Were you lying?"

"Of course not!" Makoto looked mortified at the very idea. "I would never lie to you. _Especially_ not to you! It's just..." the brunette closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "This is important, Master Haruka. If I want to remain by your side, this is absolutely necessary...!"

The intensity of his slave's words surprised Haruka. He searched his face, searched his expression, but could find no answer. Then again, he didn't even know what he was searching for.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even realize that Makoto had leaned forward more until he felt warmth on his forehead. Makoto had pressed their heads together, his eyes still closed.

"I'll be back soon," Makoto whispered. "I will return by your side soon, Master Haruka."

Then he pulled away and Haruka, who had also closed his eyes, heard his footsteps growing fainter and fainter. When the sound had completely disappeared, he opened his eyes again.

_He's gone..._

_But..._

He raised his fingertips and pressed them against his forehead which felt warm and feverish.

_The place where his skin touched mine..._

_ It burns..._

.

.

.

"Oh, Haru-chan!" Nagisa exclaimed as Haruka wobbled back into the room. "What did Mako-chan want? Did he – Haru-chan? Are you okay?"

Haruka collapsed back into his armchair and sighed, burying his face into his hands. "I'm fine..." he muttered, his voice muffled by his fingers. His forehead still burned from Makoto's touch. He felt his hands being pried away and he realized that he was staring into the red eyes of Rin.

"You alright? Your complexion isn't so good... did you get another fever?" Rin pressed his own hand to Haruka's head, checking his temperature. His hand was pleasantly cool. "It doesn't feel like you do..."

"Let me see!" Nagisa bounded over, squashing Rin flat underneath him. Rin narrowly avoided eating carpet by turning his head to the side.

"YEOWCH! NAGISA!"

"Hahahaha! Sorry, Rin-chan!" Nagisa pressed his forehead against Haruka's and hummed. "Hmm, well you don't _seem_ like you have a fever..."

"I'm not sick," Haruka said brusquely, pushing him away. He felt highly irritated – and somewhat embarrassed – from the attention. "I have a deck of cards here. Let's play until dinner is ready."

"Ehh?! But Haru-chan _always_ wins, no matter what card game we play!" the blonde complained. "Even if we know that Haru-chan is cheating, we still can't catch you!"

"It's not my fault that you're so clumsy with your hands," the blue-eyed young master couldn't help but feel a bit smug. "Let's play poker."

"It's boring if it's just that! Let's play strip poker!"

"Deal."

"WHAT?! Nagisa, Haru, I'm not doing this shit!"

"Why? Do you have something to be ashamed of?"

"... Haru, you little fucker, I'm going to _kill_ you!"

.

.

.

Three rounds later, Haruka was smirking at Rin, who fumbled with the hem of his pants.

"Haru-chan won all the rounds! No fair!" Nagisa whined, rubbing his bare arms. He bounced up and down on the couch. His shirt had been flung onto Haruka's bed sheets. "Your room is cold without a shirt on!"

"I like the cold," Haruka gave Rin a once-over. "Nice fundoshi, Rin."

"Fuck you, Haru," Rin muttered. Having lost two rounds in a row, Rin was forced to strip of his top and bottom. Haruka dragged his eyes over the bare skin and muscles before him. "Quit staring at me so much. You have the same look in your eyes as Gou."

"Gou-chan still has a muscle fetish?" Nagisa questioned, his pink eyes twinkling with mischief. "Haru-chan, you'd better hope that Gou-chan never meets Makoto. She'd steal him away in a heartbeat."

"Come to think of it, he's gotten pretty huge," Rin said thoughtfully, leaning his head back to look upwards at the ceiling. "I didn't think he'd get to be such a big guy. He was always tall for his age though."

"Ah, so Rin-chan, you really _did_ know him from before!" the blonde bounced up and down on the couch again, causing Haruka to wonder if he would have to replace the cushions later. "Hey, hey, what was your relationship?!"

"None of your business," Rin scowled at two people. "I thought I told you to stop staring, Haru."

"Let me draw you sometime. A naked sketch," Haruka replied without thinking. Rin's words were still echoing through his head and he wondered just how the redhead and the brunette knew each other. Did Makoto used to work for Rin...?

"Hell no! You're giving me the creeps, Haru...! Haru? What are you spacing out for?" Rin waved a hand in front of his face. Haruka didn't snap out of it.

"Are you thinking of Gou-chan?" Nagisa teased. "Ah, Rin, wouldn't it be nice of Haru-chan married Gou-chan? The two of you could be brothers!"

_That _snapped the water-lover out of it. "I don't want to marry Kou."

Rin jumped out of his chair and loomed over his friend, sharp teeth clacking together threateningly. "Are you saying that my sister isn't good enough for you?!"

"... Do you want her to marry me?"

"Hell no, you'd be a terrible influence on her," Rin plopped back down, crossing his arms and legs. "... She did used to say that she wanted to marry me when we were kids though... Gou..."

"Haru-chan, Haru-chan," Nagisa said in a purposefully loud whisper. "I think that Rin-chan is starting to turn into an old man."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

Rin, who looked ready to jump on to Haruka, who was smirking immensely, bared his overly pointy teeth. Haruka, despite his apparent cockiness, placed most of his weight on his feet, ready to spring out of the way if need be. Just the moment the redhead was about to pounce, there was a timid knock on the door.

Nagisa groaned and rolled his eyes. "Great, and it was just getting good," he grumbled. "Come in!"

The door creaked open and the first thing Haruka saw was a head of gray hair cut into a bowl shape. Then he saw timid blue-gray eyes peeping from behind the wood. "Master Rin...?" he asked in a soft, nervous voice.

"Oh, come on in, Ai," Rin waved his hand offhandedly.

"Isn't this _my_ room?" Haruka muttered, clearly irritated.

"The gray-haired servant dubbed 'Ai' shook his head quickly, causing his soft hair to fly every which way. "Oh no, Master Rin. The Nanase household's servants sent me to tell you that dinner is ready. Today's main course is freshly grilled mackerel with miso together with sautéed vegetables."

"Why is it always mackerel? What is it with your family and mackerel?"

"Shut up. Mackerel is the blessed food given by the ocean spirits."

Nagisa started laughing. "Whatever food it is, I'm starved! Let's go eat!" he said, playing peacemaker between the two. Grabbing both of them by the arms, he hauled them up and dragged them along with an amazing display of energy, much to Haruka and Rin's chagrin. All at once, he came to an abrupt halt right in front of Rin's servant. "Sorry," he apologized, making the gray-haired servant's jaw drop with shock. Masters _never_ apologized to their servants. Especially not someone as important as the Prime Minister's son! But then again, this _was_ Nagisa. "I didn't quite catch your name. Ai, was it?"

"N-N-Nitori Aiichirou, sir!" the servant squeaked out, bowing so low that he almost banged his head against his knees. "I-I am Master Rin's newly appointed personal servant, sir!"

"Nitori Aiichirou," Nagisa said thoughtfully, completely ignoring his friends who were attempting to struggle out of his iron grip. "I'll remember that. I'll call you Ai-chan!" Nagisa winked at him before once more yanking his friends along and sprinting out into the hallway.

"Take it easy, Nagisa! You're gonna pull my arms off!"

"Nagisa, stop running! And let go already!"

Nagisa high-pitched cackling laughter resonated all the way back to Nitori, who sweat-dropped. _G-Good luck with that one, Master Rin..._

.

.

.

Haruka curled up in his bed in a fetal position. Two hours. It had been two _hours_ since the end of dinner – which was delicious as usual – and only thirty minutes since Nagisa had yawned hugely and excused himself for bed. Rin followed him not long after, saying good night to Haruka before being escorted by Nitori to his guest room.

Haruka was waiting for Makoto.

He knew that Makoto had said that whatever job he had to do, it would take a long time. But Haruka's bath time was approaching fast and he hoped that his servant would return in time for it, like he had promised. While his skin itched to just forget about Makoto and head straight for his private bathroom and water-filled tub, his mind spoke otherwise and told him to wait.

Floorboards creaked outside of his door and Haruka immediately sat up, hopeful. His wish was granted when there were soft familiar knockings on the door.

"Come in."

Makoto pushed open the door and hurried into the room. "My deepest and most sincere apologies for being late, Master Haruka. I – " his master cut him off by holding up a single hand.

"Bath time. Now," Haruka replied, grabbing onto Makoto's hand to hoist himself off the bed. Not letting go, he pulled Makoto towards his private bathroom and promptly started to strip.

"M-Master Haruka, please don't toss your clothes on the floor like that! You'll get them wet!" Makoto momentarily panicked, hurriedly scooping up the slightly wet fabric. "Honestly, I've never seen you do this before. At least wait for me to properly undress you."

"Can't wait," Haruka muttered, promptly sliding into his bathtub. The warm water greeted him like a lover and he sighed in much needed relief. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Makoto fold his clothes and place them on a dry spot on the floor. Makoto used his teeth to remove his gloves. For some reason it made Haruka feel ridiculously hot.

First was Haruka's hair. Makoto lathered the shampoo between his palms and worked it into a foamy mass of bubbles. Haruka liked the way Makoto would wash his hair, with fingertips that pressed all the right places on his scalp as he worked the shampoo through fine black strands. His hands were so gentle, and yet it was at times like these where Haruka could feel the power that his servant possessed. If he wanted to, Makoto could probably crush Haruka's skull with ease. The young master shivered at the idea.

"I'm rinsing it out now, Master Haruka. Please close your eyes," Makoto's voice murmured softly into his ear. The way Makoto touched him was a little too intimate for a normal slave, but Haruka found that he liked the gesture and even welcomed it. More than anything, he wanted more of it.

Hot water splashed over his closed eyes as Makoto emptied the bucket over the head, washing out the suds and leaving his hair shiny clean. He felt Makoto's hands gently touch his wet bangs, brushing them out of the way from his face. "Master Haruka," he said for no particular reason, only because he wanted to. It was a peculiar habit of his.

Haruka couldn't help but shiver slightly at the touch, but something wafted past his nose and made him frown.

_Again_, Haruka thought, his face quickly forming a scowl. _He smells like perfume again. And it's even stronger this time. _The flowery scent annoyed him greatly and he gripped onto Makoto's wrist, ignoring the strange pleasure that suddenly shot through his body from touching his bare skin. "Makoto."

"Yes, Master Haruka?"

"... Take off your clothes."

"EH?!" Makoto gasped, yanking his hand out of Haruka's grip. "M-M-Master Haruka?!"

"Like I said, take off your clothes and get in here with me."

"W-W-Why?!"

"Because you reek of women," he muttered this last sentence so quietly that Makoto had to strain his ears to catch it. "You smell like their perfume."

"E-Eh? Do I?" Makoto pressed his free arm against his nose and sniffed. "Oh, I can smell it a little. Does it bother you, Master Haruka?"

_It does_, Haruka wanted to say. Instead what came out of his mouth was, "Not really... Just get in."

"...I'm terribly sorry, Master Haruka. But I must refuse this order even if it means my punishment," Makoto gently shook off Haruka's hand from his wrist, ignoring the way his master's brilliant blue eyes dimmed. It wasn't that he didn't see it – he ignored it. "Please give me your arm, Master Haruka."

"... Don't use the towel."

"Master Haruka, please, there is a protocol – "

"_Don't use the towel_," Haruka balled his fists underneath the water's surface.

The surprisingly sharp and commanding tone took Makoto by surprise. Sighing resignedly, he dropped the towel and folded his hands behind his back. "... Then what shall I use, Master Haruka?"

"Your hands," blue eyes darted towards Makoto's hands, which looked big, strong, and worn. He imagined them running over his body, rubbing the soap into his skin and he swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. "Just your hands."

Makoto immediately obliged, reaching over for the soap to lather between his palms. "Your arm please, Master Haruka."

Haruka lifted his right arm out of the water and held it out over the side of the tub, so that the suds wouldn't get in the water. His breath caught in his throat as Makoto's bare, slippery hands slid over his skin.

Makoto's hands worked their way from his master's fingertips to the shoulder and back again, gently caressing, squeezing, and massaging as they went. The soap made his skin slick and it gave Haruka a strange burning feeling everywhere his servant's hands touched. He bit back a breathy gasp as Makoto lightly trailed his soapy fingers from the inside of his elbow to his wrists. He wasn't sensitive there. He wasn't _supposed _to be sensitive there. And yet when Makoto slid a little further up his shoulder towards his neck, Haruka made a little noise that almost sounded like a whimper.

Immediately, Makoto retracted his hands. "Master Haruka?" he asked, puzzled and waiting for permission to go further. Haruka took a little time to compose himself.

"I... I think that's enough for this arm," Haruka managed to say with a straight face. "Wash it off and do the next one."

Internally, he was panicking at himself. _What **was** that?!_ he wondered to himself, wondering why Makoto's mere touch could make him lose control. He bit his top lip as Makoto obeyed and poured warm water over his arm to clean it off.

Makoto reached for the soap again and walked to the other side of the bathtub to wash Haruka's left arm. Still biting hard on his lip, Haruka tried his best not to make a sound when the burning sensation returned as the skin-on-skin contact started again.

He felt a trickle of wetness run down his chin and suddenly Makoto was visibly alarmed. "Master Haruka! Your lip!" he cried.

Haruka opened his mouth to speak and tasted liquid iron. He had bitten his lip so hard that it was bleeding. "It's fine," Haruka muttered, automatically lifting his cleaned arm to wipe it away. Makoto hastily stopped him by lightly jerking on his other arm.

"Don't just wipe it! It might make it worse! We need to wipe up the blood too, before it gets in the water," Makoto glanced down at his hands, covered in soap. If he touched Haruka's open wound with them, it might sting badly.

Haruka panicked a little when he felt the blood trickle lower and he tilted back his head so that it would at least run down his throat and not drip into his bath water. "Makoto. Clean it."

Green eyes watched the blood's process as it swiftly trailed down his Master's pale skin. "I'll go wash my hands, then – "

"No time! Just do it!"

"Um, um..." Makoto's eyes darted around. "... My thousand apologies, Master Haruka!"

"Wha – "

Something warm and wet that was definitely not Makoto's fingers touched just below his collarbone and made its way up to the hollow of his throat. He repressed a gasp as he realized that it was Makoto's tongue.

The large pink muscle delicately made its way up to his chin, leaving a thin trail of saliva on his skin. Realizing what would happen next, Haruka shut his eyes just as he felt Makoto's tongue lap against the wound on his lip.

Something inside of Haruka seemed to coil and tighten unbearably, giving him the sudden, desperate urge to cross his legs. Makoto continued to lick lightly on his top lip, cleaning away the blood. Haruka found himself gripping on to Makoto's sleeve and keening softly.

_Why... Why does it feel good...?_

All at once, it hit him of what they were doing. Makoto was practically kissing him. He was doing something _more_ intimate than kissing him. They were servant and master. An act like this was completely forbidden.

Summoning a desire to escape – which was difficult because he didn't really want to escape – Haruka let go of Makoto's sleeve and placed his hand on his chest in a halfhearted effort to push him away. He gasped as Makoto grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers together, while his other hand also let go of Haruka's arm to favor the nape of his neck. Haruka tried to protest, to pull away again...

Then their lips were lightly pressing together and Haruka couldn't tell if it was on purpose or by accident and the next thing he knew he was being kissed over and over again on the lips and then Makoto's tongue licked his lip again, not to clean his wound but to... to...

"Stop!"

Instantly Makoto let go and Haruka pressed himself against the rim of his bath tub, trying to get as much distance from Makoto as he could. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he glanced at Makoto's face and recoiled even further.

The normally soft and gentle green eyes were suddenly tainted with something darker and carnal. Again, Haruka felt the powerful urge to cross his legs, but this time out of a feeling similar to fear.

Then Makoto blinked a few times and suddenly he seemed to come to his senses. "Master Haruka!" he gasped, his cheeks flushing a rosy pink. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't... I..." he blushed terribly. "I'm so sorry, Master Haruka! I just... couldn't control myself..." his voice trailed off feebly and he shifted his glance to his hands. "Ah, I got soap on your neck. I'll wash it off, just wait a moment – "

"No," Haruka rasped, flinching at the thought of being touched again. "I-I'll do it myself. You're dismissed, Makoto. Go, just – " he waved his hand and again, Makoto obeyed without question, quickly rinsing off his hands and practically fleeing from the room.

Haruka shakily touched the back of his neck and his lips. Now that the fear was gone, suddenly the heat came back with a vengeance. It was similar to the feeling of when he dived into an iced lake – no matter how cold it was outside, after he emerged to the surface it would feel like something on the inside was on fire. Even his bath water felt chilly in comparison to his body.

_Hot... so hot..._

.

.

.

Dressed in his dark blue sleeping yukata, Haruka could not even think about going to sleep. How many hours had he been lying awake on his bed? The burning had left him, much to his relief, but it was replaced with a powerful urge to see Makoto again. On a whim, he made up his mind to go see him.

_He should live in the farthest of the servants' quarters... since we don't actually have rooms for slaves..._

Quietly shutting his bedroom dorm behind him, Haruka took unsteady steps down the hallway, his bare feet making little to no sound. He placed his hand against the wall to make up for his obscured vision. The lights were all out now, and while he was free to wander as he pleased, he didn't want to see anyone but Makoto.

He did pause, however, just outside of Nagisa's guest room and press his ear to the door. Hearty snores from inside told him that Nagisa was completely knocked out. _Figures_, Haruka thought dryly. _He bounces around with so much energy, of course he would wear himself out..._

Shaking his head, he moved on. Rin's room was just around the corner from Nagisa's. The company president was probably already asleep, since he was actually very conscientious and responsible despite initial appearances. Much to Haruka's surprise, however, the light was still on and the door was slightly ajar. As he moved closer, he could hear two voices. One was Rin. The other was...

_Makoto?_

He quietly slid closer to the door and tried to peer through the narrow crack. He saw Rin, sitting on his bed, dressed in his gray sleeping yukata. He couldn't see Makoto, but judging from the direction of Rin's gaze, he was on the other side of the room.

They were speaking very quietly and so it was difficult to hear their conversation. Straining his ears, however, Haruka could at least hear Rin's words.

"I don't understand," Rin was saying. "Why are you even here..."

Makoto's words were indiscernible, but Rin gave a big sigh and propped his elbow on his knee, his chin on his palm. "It's not like I don't know what you mean, but... Even so, you shouldn't do such a thing... I can't believe Haru's parents would make you do that... What? What do you mean, yourself? ... You'll show me? What do you mean you'll show me... HOLY HELL!"

Haruka jumped and so did Rin, up to his feet. "What the hell is that?!" Rin was demanding, his face looking absolutely furious. "_What the hell **is** that?!"_

It seemed that Makoto did not lose his composure at Rin's outburst. His words were as soft as before.

"The fuck do you mean! That isn't natural!" Rin hissed, seeming to remember that it was late at night. "You didn't... You can't mean..." Rin shook his head in disbelief. "You are one crazy motherfucker, I'll give you that. But hey, do you realize what you're doing? Do you even..." Rin trailed off. Haruka tried to shift his view to see Makoto, widening the crack slightly as a result. "Makoto, what about Haru? If you hurt him, I'll never forgive you."

_Me?_ Haruka wondered, still trying to see Makoto. _Why are they talking about me?_

Suddenly the need to see Makoto was made unnecessary. The servant himself strode into view, standing directly in front of Rin. Haruka frowned. Something about his appearance was very... disheveled. Even more than when he had run from the bathroom.

"I won't hurt him," Makoto stated. From the angle he and Haruka were at, only his back and the side of his head were visible. His eyes were not. "I won't hurt him, but... I will use him."

Haruka's gasp was swallowed up by Rin's indignant outburst. "HOW COULD YOU – "

"Please, Rin. It's almost two o'clock in the morning. Mind your volume," Makoto gently reprimanded him. Haruka's eyes narrowed. Makoto was speaking to Rin so casually. It was almost like a conversation between two friends, not a noble and slave. "Like I said... I'll use him, but I won't hurt him," Makoto seemed to stand a little taller, his back straighter. "But no matter what, I will protect my Master."

A warm and tingly feeling surged through his said master standing outside the door. _Makoto_, Haruka thought, with the fierce urge to hug him. _Makoto_.

Yet the way Rin was looking at Makoto made him uncomfortable. It was not affection, nor anything particularly romantic. It was the gaze of a man who cared very deeply and was afraid for him. "Hey," Rin said in a hoarser tone. "You... will you be alright with this? With everything? Does Haru even remember – "

"He doesn't," Makoto interrupted him. Haruka impulsively flinched. A slave interrupting the Master would earn a week of solitary confinement with limited nourishment. "And I don't want him to. As long as I am near him, I am happy."

Rin scrutinized Makoto skeptically. "You're sappy as usual. And overly masochistic," he sighed deeply. "... Hey."

"Hm?"

"... Don't be too reckless alright?" to Haruka's shock, Rin reached up and touched Makoto's face gently on the cheek, reminiscent of how Makoto had cupped Haruka's cheek hours before. "I don't want to lose the two of you. Especially you. Not again. I couldn't take it the first time."

Makoto smiled – Haruka couldn't see his face but he knew he smiled – and murmured, "I know," before enveloping Rin into his strong arms for a hug.

Again, heat flooded into Haruka's body, but this heat was different. Instead of a burning sensation which ebbed its way down his body, it was more like he was being pricked by a thousand heated nails, stabbing him from the inside out. The sight of his servant and his friend hugging was painful, and he didn't even know why.

"Protect yourself. And Haru," Rin was muttering. Makoto laughed softly into his hair, making several red strands wave from his breath.

Haruka couldn't stand it anymore. He inched himself away from the door and then sprinted away back towards his room when he deemed himself far enough. What he wasn't aware of were the green eyes, following his image as he ran away.

* * *

_*The bell-pulley system is an older system similar to an intercom. Bells would be set up in certain rooms available for the Masters within the house to pull. Pulling one would cause the pulley system to ring another bell down below in the servant's quarters. The bell would be labeled in which room the servant is being summoned. I made up the name but I know this system exists (you can also see it in Kuroshitsuji chapter 33 page 24)._

My apologies for the late chapter. It wasn't flowing as smoothly as I would have liked until the bath scene. I had to rewrite it several times and even now I'm not satisfied. Hopefully I can do better for chapter 4. Cheers, everyone, and Happy New Year. I hope you all have a happy 2014.


	4. The Slave's Dangerous Side

**Anonymous****: ***PROSTRATING BEFORE YOU BECAUSE I AM UNWORTHY OF SUCH WORDS* Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this *ahem* somewhat more mysterious and hotter installment...

**Lolishoujo16:** Don't die! Read more!

**Shin-kai Syndrome:** Ah yes, the kiss scene, a reasonably tame version of things to come. Hohoho~

**GUEST:** WELL THEN HERE YOU GO.

**NyxLied:** I swear, I actually have a hard time writing hot scenes because it's all so eloquent in my head and then in Word it turns into something equivalent to Pig Latin - with all the words and letters not in the right place.

**Magua:** Welllllll, I do put this story up on my Tumblr. There's your 'like' button, LOL. I'm so touched that you think my language is good...! MY ENGLISH TEACHERS SHOULD HAVE GIVEN ME MORE THAN A B HAHAHAHA no, not really.

**I do not own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club or any of the characters in it. **

_I tried changing my writing style a little bit but I think it regressed during the later half of this chapter... T_T_

* * *

The morning was glorious. The sun's rays shone down upon the Nanase household with its warm light. The flora was heavily laden with dew, and the sunlight made it sparkle like a thousand gems. A lovely songbird perched on a tree next to Haruka's window and started to sing gaily in its beautiful voice.

A pillow hit the window with a loud thump, causing the songbird to squawk in surprise and fly away.

Haruka cracked his eyes open to the morning light and gave a soft groan of irritation. _It's too early for this..._ he thought grumpily. After witnessing that _scene_ last night, he had dozed into a fitful sleep only a few hours ago. Ordinarily he was a morning person who woke up instantly. Now he was just cursing the fact that mornings even existed.

Burying himself further under the sheets, Haruka curled up into a ball and thought about what he had seen last night. It wasn't something terrible; it was only his servant and the friend he had known since childhood embracing...

Scowling, Haruka sat up straight and ripped the covers off his head. Like he could possibly sleep like this!

Makoto hadn't come to wake him up, but that was probably because he didn't want to face him after... _attending to his wound_ yesterday. That spot on his lip was swollen slightly and had probably turned a dark shade of purple. He licked it unconsciously, then flushed horribly as he remembered more and more details from his bath last night.

He had never seen Makoto's eyes so dark, so wanting, so... predatory. It made him shiver just thinking about it and a tingling thrill ran through his body at the memory. It was gradual, but he could feel the heat again, slowly building up the more he thought about the kiss...

_Water_, Haruka thought, swallowing in an attempt to moisten his throat. _I need to get in the water._

_._

_._

_._

The Nanase estate was particularly large in terms of land. The mansion's backyard was a full acre of forest, which was also the Nanase's personal hunting ground. Admittedly, no member of the Nanase household took part in the sport – what they were more interested in was the large lake in the center of the forest.

The lake was almost perfectly egg-shaped with a small island in the center. There was nothing really remarkable about the island – there were only several trees, one which produced fruit, and berry bushes. As a child, it was Haruka's hobby to swim out to the middle of the lake and stay on the island for hours, wiling away the time by reading books he managed to keep dry or eating the harvest of the land. He would also occasionally fish and make a fire to eat them. It was his secret hiding place which only three people knew about. Two, now that his grandmother had passed away.

This time, however, Haruka did not sit on the island. Instead he spent the morning basking in the sun, naked, while drifting on his back in the water. While annoyed by the light initially, he felt grateful for the warmth now. With his front warm and dry and his back cool and wet, he wondered if this was what it felt like to be balanced with the elements.

"Master Haruka? Are you here?"

Surprised, Haruka accidentally curved his stomach inward, causing him to instantly sink and swallow a mouthful of lake water. Sputtering, he pulled himself upright and treaded the water to face Makoto. He had never seen the servant look so stern, with his hands on his hips and his brow furrowed.

"Master Haruka!" Makoto scolded him. "I have been looking everywhere for you! The Master and Mistress are worried! They thought that you might have run away! Master Rin and Master Nagisa were also upset at your disappearance!" the brunette gave a tired sigh and held his hand out for Haruka to take. "I implore you, let us return to the mansion, Master Haruka. I will prepare a hot bath for you to wash off the lake water."

"Bath water, lake water, it doesn't make a difference," Haruka replied, swimming backwards to put some distance between them. "The water won't hurt me."

"Perhaps the water would not, but the germs inside it could," Makoto shot back. His hand was still outstretched. "Master Haruka, please come here."

"You can't tell me what to do," the young master sulked, swimming closer to the island. "If I told anybody of the way you're speaking to me, you'd be punished severely."

"Master Haruka would not do such a thing," his servant's voice was confident and serene, albeit still annoyed. "Because Master Haruka cannot stand to lose me."

The swimmer's face flushed a rosy red. "What do you know about me?!" he demanded, furious.

"I know everything about you," the green eyes were unwavering. "Because the only person I care about is Master Haruka. Master Haruka is everything to me, and so my eyes only follow you," Makoto watched as his master's complexion turned redder and redder. "I don't want you getting sick, Master Haruka. Please take my hand. I'll wash you thoroughly when we get back to the mansion."

That was the final blow. Blushing profusely, Haruka dunked his head under the water to cool his fevered skin. _Stupid Makoto!_ he thought, mortified. _As if I could let you after yesterday!_

Nevertheless, he emerged from the lake like a merman from the sea and took Makoto's gloved hand. His clothes and a towel were hanging on a nearby tree. Makoto took the towel and rubbed at his hair, ignoring the way Haruka flinched at his touch.

"If there is a repeat from yesterday," Haruka muttered, "I _will_ report you."

Makoto paused, pushing the towel back enough to stare into eyes as blue as the ocean and as clear as glass. He tilted his head to the side, as if weighing his options.

This his head suddenly dipped down and lightly brushed their lips together. The touch was so quick that Haruka wasn't sure if it had really happened. Trembling, he brought his fingers to his lips and touched the exact spot.

It was the place where he had bitten his lip. Haruka flushed a fine shade of scarlet. "I-I thought I told you – " he started weakly. Makoto's chuckle cut him off.

"My deepest apologies, Master Haruka. But your facial expression spoke otherwise," he gazed at him. "Rather than, 'don't do it again', it looked more like 'I want it again'."

Unable to argue, Haruka settled for stony silence and pointedly staring at a different direction. He ignored Makoto, even as the latter toweled off the rest of his body and dressed him. The moment the last button was fastened, Haruka stalked off in the direction of the mansion, refusing to look back at his servant at his heels.

.

.

.

"Haru-chan!" Nagisa yelled, flinging himself into Haruka's arms. Rin followed closely behind, red eyes flickering towards Makoto before going back to his friend. "Rin-Rin and I were so so so worried about you! We thought that you might have been kidnapped or something!"

"Who would kidnap me?" Haruka rolled his eyes, trying to gently dislodge him. Nagisa was worse than an octopus.

"Gee, I don't know, maybe a rival business company?" Rin drawled teasingly. Haruka didn't miss the prompt.

"That would only be you, _Rin-Rin_."

"Don't call me Rin-Rin!"

Smirking, Haruka glanced back at Makoto, who was merely standing by with an amused smile on his face. "Makoto, could you get breakfast for us?"

"Certainly," Makoto bowed out of the room. Haruka watched him go, unaware of the way Nagisa and Rin stared at him.

"Haru-chan _really _likes Mako-chan, huh?" Nagisa murmured, a little wistful. "I'm kind of jealous, Haru-chan. I've known you longer!"

"It's not really a competition is it?" Rin assisted Haruka in prying the blonde off. "Hey, Haru, were you _there_ this morning? At your usual little hideout spot?"

Haruka nodded, not taking his eyes off where Makoto had left the room. Nagisa looked back and forth between them and pouted. "No fair!" he whined. "Rin-chan and Haru-chan should share their secrets with me too! Ne, Haru-chan! Where's 'that' place?"

"It's a secret," Haruka finally tore his eyes away from the spot and instead looked at Rin, who was laughing at the indignant look on Nagisa's face.

"Like I said, tell me too!" Nagisa whined, rubbing his head against Haruka's side. This little game of 'hint-and-don't-tell' continued on until Makoto came back with a silver tray of scones, mint tea in a china teapot, and grilled mackerel on a platter. The three young masters seated themselves on the couches. Makoto placed down the food on the low coffee table in the center and stood by to let them eat.

.

.

.

"Haru, I need to talk to you for a bit. Would that be okay?" Rin asked, putting down his almost empty cup of tea. Makoto made a move to refill it but Rin waved him away. "Nagisa, that means no eavesdropping from you."

"What?!" complained Nagisa with his mouth full, spilling crumbs everywhere. "Ah, sorry! Sorry, Mako-chan! I'll clean that up later."

"It's not a problem, Master Nagisa," Makoto quickly replied. "I'll go get the broom and dustpan."

"Leave it for later, Makoto," Rin ordered in a slightly more imperious tone. Makoto halted.

"Don't boss around my servant," Haruka muttered, stabbing at his mackerel with a fork. Rin frowned at this and looked like he wanted to say something. He even opened his mouth to speak before he caught the warning gaze of Makoto and closed it.

Haruka, who did not miss the warning gaze, scowled. "Nagisa, sorry, but could you leave us alone for a while?"

"Makoto goes too," Rin added.

"Makoto doesn't have to go. He's my servant. What he hears doesn't matter."

"It matters in this case. Nagisa, Makoto, _leave_."

"But – " Nagisa started to protest before he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Makoto offering an arm.

"Shall we go, _Mistress_ Nagisa?" he said with an exaggeratedly polite smile. Haruka was once again thankful that it was just him, Nagisa, and Rin in the room. Nagisa started giggling.

"You've got an interested sense of humor for a slave, Mako-chan," he teased, sliding his arm through the taller teen's. "Alright, Mako-chan and I are going on a date. Have fun you two~" he waved like a maiden as Makoto led him away. Haruka experienced a flash of irritation at the laughing expression on his servant's face.

As soon as the two were alone, Rin slumped backwards in his chair. "Good God," he muttered. "I can't tell if Makoto's brilliant or an idiot. He was always a social guy, but seriously? At least think about how society would look at you."

"Enough about Makoto, what did you want to talk to me about?" Haruka poured himself some more tea. "Is it really so important that we had to send them out of the room?"

"What I want to talk about _is_ Makoto," Rin replied flatly. "And Nagisa would just get in the way with his questions," he sat up and surveyed his friend thoughtfully. "Haru, how do you feel about Makoto? How much do you know about him?"

Pride made Haruka want to restrain his answer, especially considering that he didn't know much. Instead he threw back the same question. "What about you? You seem to know Makoto a little too well... did he used to work for you or something?"

Rin snorted, "_Him_? Work for _me_? No way," the redhead shook his head. "There's no way that would ever possibly happen in this lifetime. I can't even imagine it."

The black-haired teen frowned. Something about the answer seemed a little off.

"Well, that's not entirely true, considering what I'm about to ask you, I guess," Rin admitted, more to himself than to Haruka. The way red eyes gazed into blue made Haruka feel unnerved.

"What are you going to ask?"

"It's more like a request, really," Rin conceded. "And I know you're going to object but if you just listen to me first – "

"Rin, cut the bullshit. What the fuck do you want?" Haruka blunted asked, making Rin pause. His friend rarely ever cussed.

"Fine, I'll be blunt," he shot back brusquely. He hunched over and put his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together in a businesslike gesture. "Haru, give Makoto to me."

.

.

.

"As expected of the Nanase gardens," Nagisa said, admiring the brilliant colors of the nearby begonias and irises. "They have almost all the plants native to Japan here."

Outside in the bright sunshine, Makoto watched as Nagisa flitted from flower to flower. "Does Master Nagisa love flowers?"

"I do! Maybe it's the influence of my older sisters, but I like pretty and cute things," his attention was distracted by a fluttering butterfly, the wings as blue and shining as Haruka's eyes. "Oh, a butterfly!" Nagisa exclaimed. Slowly, he crept up on it, attempting to catch it within his hands without harming it.

He pounced on it with a yell of triumph which quickly turned into a cry of misfortune as he landed in a plot of thorny rose bushes. Makoto rushed over to pull him out and dust him down. "Are you alright, Master Nagisa?!" he asked worriedly. "Please turn around. I'll pick out any thorns that might have gotten stuck to your clothes."

Nagisa obeyed and held his arms out rigidly to the sides so that he resembled a cross. Makoto gently patted him down. "Any luck, Mako-chan?"

"Thankfully, yes. There don't seem to be any stuck on you..."

"That's not what I meant."

Makoto straightened up only to meet Nagisa's knowing gaze. "... Master Nagisa?"

"Mako-chan," Nagisa said, slowly and deliberately, "how long are you going to play 'master and servant' with Haru-chan?"

Makoto raised an eyebrow before closing his eyes to laugh benignly. "Eh? What do you mean, Master Nagisa?" his kindly expression did nothing for Nagisa's icy stare. The serious expression looked strange on his face. After only a moment of hesitation he spoke a single word.

"... Ácweorran."

Makoto's eyes snapped open and immediately the temperature seemed to drop. The tension between them was almost palpable. Makoto's eyelids lowered and his clear green eyes seemed to smolder, much like they did last night with Haruka. This time, however, there was no _desire_ in his gaze. There was only _danger_.

"Oh my," he said very softly. Then all at once his expression turned back to normal and he gave a little laugh. "As expected of the future ruler of Japan. It looks like you already know everything, Master Nagisa!"

"Just call me Nagisa. I don't actually like being called 'Master'," Nagisa grinned back and the tension eased.

"Very well then, since nobody else is around," Makoto chuckled. "_Nagisa_."

"Much better," the blonde grinned at him. They started to converse openly and freely, as if they were two long lost childhood friends.

"So how long has it been?"

"Perhaps a little over seven years or so. Maybe more."

"Ohhh, that's pretty impressive! Most people wouldn't survive that long! Does Haru-chan know anything?"

"Haru-chan doesn't know anything. And I'd prefer to keep it that way," the tension came back slightly, but Nagisa remained undaunted. "What happens is solely between the Master and Mistress and I."

"So Uncle and Auntie are involved too? Uwaaah, so deep and dangerous!" the blonde gave a careless laugh. "Somebody should tell the police!"

"Indeed!" Makoto gave an equally careless laugh before fixing Nagisa once more with his smoldering gaze. "Well then, Nagisa, are you going to get in my way...?"

The underlying threat was obvious and Nagisa held up his hands in defeat. "No way! Mako-chan is so sca~ary!" he dragged out the word to put emphasis on it. "Besides, it's not like I'm not doing one or two shady things myself," he grinned. "I'm surprised. I've heard a little about you from Rin-chan, though he never told me your name. It seems that he was either lying or that you've changed," Nagisa dropped his hands and his expression once more turned serious. "The way Rin-chan described you, you didn't seem to be this kind of person."

"Funny, Rin said the same thing last night," Makoto glanced down at his hands, where there were multiple little scars barely visible in the sunlight. "I guess I have changed quite a bit. It comes with this sort of job."

Nagisa walked up to him with no fear and gently grasped Makoto's large hand between his own smaller ones. "... It must have been very difficult for you," he said softly. "To be involved with that sort of thing..."

"Not at all. This is what I chose to protect those important to me," Makoto smiled. He placed his other hand on top of Nagisa's. "But thank you for your concern," he brought the blonde's small and pale hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. Nagisa's smile turned a little sad.

"Well then, I suppose they would be done with whatever discussions they were having," Makoto withdrew his hands and dropped them by his sides. "Shall we return, Master Nagisa?"

"Certainly," Nagisa replied, matching his formality. As they strode back towards the mansion, they started talking friendly again.

"Mako-chan... what you're attempting, you know how dangerous it is, right? Will Haru-chan be in any danger?"

"I'll protect him no matter what comes along. But no matter what, I shall always protect my Master," Makoto replied redundantly.

"If anything happens to Haru-chan, I won't forgive you."

"Don't worry. If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive myself either. Oh. Wait a moment, please."

Makoto suddenly hurried off the side of the brick path and Nagisa was left standing alone. When the servant came back, he was clasping something in between his cupped hands delicately, as if whatever he was holding was overly fragile.

"Hold still, Master Nagisa," he said, holding his hands over Nagisa's blonde hair. The blonde obeyed, wondering what on earth he was planning and ready to move in case of emergency.

Makoto released his hands and the blue butterfly fluttered out dazedly. Nagisa's little gasp of delight startled it and it flew upwards to rest among golden strands. Nagisa tilted his head, trying to see it before Makoto stilled him with a palm to the shoulder.

"It's still there. Just don't move too much," a breeze blew by but oddly enough the butterfly stayed on his head, refusing to budge. "It seems that butterflies are very attracted to you, Master Nagisa," Makoto chortled. "Perhaps it has mistaken your appearance for a yellow rose and your sweetness for nectar."

Nagisa flushed pink with delight and giggled. "Now I know how Haru-chan feels," he snorted, embarrassed. "You must be a real killer with the ladies, Mako-chan."

"Not at all," Makoto denounced. "Besides, Master Haruka usually has my full attention."

"Haru-chan is so lucky to have such a devoted servant, ne~"

They again began to sojourn their way back to the mansion before another thought occurred in Nagisa's mind.

"Ah yeah, how much does Rin-Rin know?"

"Rin doesn't know much other than that I ran away from the household. I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell him anything either."

"Understood~"

.

.

.

What Makoto and Nagisa came back upon in Haruka's room was a scene of disaster.

The teapot had been shattered and the contents spilled upon the carpet like an ugly scar. Leftover scones looked as if they had been flung around the room. Among it all, Haruka and Rin were rolling around on the floor, gripping each other's collars.

"_You're_ the one that doesn't know anything!" Rin was shouting. He was currently on top of Haru, straddling his stomach and making it difficult for him to breathe. "It's not like you can help him!"

Haruka violently shoved him backwards and climbed on top of him, knee in his gut. "Makoto is _mine_!" he shouted back, not noticing that said servant was in the room. "I won't let you take him!"

There was a timid squeaking noise from the corner nearest to the door and both Nagisa and Makoto turned to see that Nitori was standing there, looking immensely nervous. "M-Master Nagisa, I have no idea what to do!" he whimpered. "Even when I told them to stop fighting, they just told me to shut up!"

Nagisa stared thoughtfully at his two fighting friends as if he were an audience member at the opera – half-amused and half-bored. "Good grief. I haven't seen them get into a fistfight since we were in elementary school. It's for reasons like this that they got suspended so much and just settled for having home tutors instead," he shook his head. "Guess I'll have to solve this the old-fashioned way."

"Old-fashioned way?" Makoto and Nitori echoed. The next thing they knew, Nagisa had seized both of their wrists and dragged them towards Haruka and Rin, yelling at the top of his voice.

"DOG PILE ON RIN-CHAN!"

"Nagi – OOF!" Haruka's yelp of surprise was cut short as Makoto clumsily toppled on to him, pinning him on half on top of Rin. Nagisa shoved Nitori on to the pile before jumping on himself. For a moment, they balanced precariously as a human tower before Haruka struggled to free his arms, causing Makoto to topple to the side and land with his elbow in Rin's ribcage. Nagisa squealed in laughter as he fell off and landed straight into Makoto's muscled chest. Nitori was not so lucky – he landed with his face in his master's crotch and his body across Haruka's.

"NITORI!"

"Uwaaaah! I-I'm sorry, Master Rin!"

"Ahahahahahaha!" Nagisa's ringing laugh surprised them all and Nagisa sat up, patting Makoto's pectorals. "For someone with so many muscles, you make a nice pillow to cuddle, Mako-chan!"

"T-Thank you," Makoto managed to wheeze out, looking to the side at Haruka. "Master Haruka, are you hurt anywhere?"

Haruka immediately turned his head to the side, mortified that Makoto had probably heard his childish claim and somehow irritated that Nagisa and Makoto seemed to be so much closer than they were before. "I'm not hurt," he muttered, ignoring the sore feeling he had around his lower chest. Makoto frowned at him and was about to say something when Rin, in a sudden burst of energy, managed to sit up and shove them all off. "I'm leaving," he snapped between gritted sharp teeth. "Come on, Ai."

"M-Master Rin, what about you? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need first aid – "

"I'm fine!" Rin, stomping towards the door with Nitori worriedly following behind, cast a glance at Makoto. "Makoto, think about my offer from last night. Send me a proper reply, will you?"

Haruka's eyes snapped to Makoto, who avoided his gaze. "... Yes, Master Rin."

Down to three, Nagisa's pink eyes shifted uneasily between Haruka and Makoto, one who was staring intensely and the other who was avoiding the stare. "I think I'll hitch a ride with Rin," Nagisa said, hastily getting up. Makoto immediately rose up to dust him off. "Thanks, Mako-chan," he said, glancing down at Haruka who was watching them with frozen – more than normal, anyway – expression on his face. A little devious idea flitted through the blonde's mind before he could stop it. "Ma~ko~chan~ Bend over a little~"

Makoto obeyed, leaning over so that all Nagisa had to do was raise himself up on tiptoe and give him a peck on the cheek. Blue eyes flashed like lightning, something neither the blonde nor brunette missed.

_Oh~ He's angry, he's angry~_ Nagisa thought amusedly. "Payback for what happened in the garden, Mako-chan," he teased, tapping the back of his hand. Makoto flushed slightly. "I had fun today. Take me out on another date sometime," he gave Makoto another kiss on the opposite cheek and promptly skedaddled out of the room before his friend blew his top.

Makoto rubbed the place where Nagisa kissed him last and remarked, "He's really unpredictable sometimes," in an offhanded manner. He still avoided Haruka's burning stare. "Master Haruka, are you hurt anywhere? I know you were lying earlier. Please, take off your shirt and let me see. I think I landed too heavily on you before."

"I'm _fine_," Haruka practically spat out acid. "More importantly, Makoto, what does Nagisa mean by payback for the garden?"

"Oh, that. I... We were just playing around. I only kissed the back of his hand as a joke, that's all," Makoto tried to wave it off with an easy smile. It was hard not to flinch as Haruka's blue eyes bore holes into his skull.

"As a _joke_?" Haruka asked angrily. "Makoto, if anyone had _seen_ you – "

"No one did," Makoto interrupted him. Haruka seethed. A hand cupped his face and he found himself looking up into apologetic green. "No one saw, Master Haruka. I promise."

"... As long as you're sure," Haruka knocked his hand away and sat down on his bed. "You're dismissed. I'm taking a nap," he winced a little as he bent forward to straighten his messy collar, a movement that his ever watchful servant did not miss.

"Master Haruka..." Makoto fetched a first aid kit from Haruka's closet. "Please at least take off your shirt and let me have a look before I go."

"Leave the first aid kit. I'll do it myself."

"I refuse."

Haruka shot another murderous glare at him but this time Makoto did not waver. He stood there, the kit in his hands and an indomitable aura surrounding him. Scowling, Haruka finally conceded. "If you want me to take off my shirt, do it for me."

"Understood," Makoto placed the first aid kit down on the floor and reached out to slowly undo Haruka's buttons one by one.

It wasn't until he felt the return of the burning sensation that Haruka realized this was a really, _really_ bad idea.

Makoto's hands were deft but slow, taking his time to undo Haruka's shirt and peeling it off his body. Shuddering as the cold air hit his bare skin, he watched as those damnable hands – still gloved in their pearly gray gloves – lightly traced a forming bruise on his upper abdomen, just above and to the right of his abs.

"I've noticed it before," Makoto mentioned casually, "but Master Haruka has a nice body."

Haruka shuddered because he could feel the breath from those words ghost over his bare skin, leaving goosebumps. Funny how the cold air couldn't do that but Makoto's warm breath could.

Makoto was still examining the bruise, which was taking on the shade of rich purple. "It looks like it'll last for quite a few days," he clicked his tongue. "What a pity. Master Haruka's skin is usually so unblemished too."

"It'll go away," Haruka managed to say. "I'll just lick it and it'll be fine."

"You cannot possibly lick this on your own, Master Haruka," Makoto said, slightly exasperated by the silliness. There was a pause and Haruka could practically see the wheels turning in Makoto's head, the darkness slowly taking over his eyes. The trapped young master knew that look all too well. He shuddered again as Makoto leaned closer to his bruise, the breath this time deliberately fanning over his skin. "So I suppose," he murmured in a husky voice, "that I will need to do it for you."

Haruka was unable to suppress a cry as he felt Makoto's tongue on his skin again. He had not realized how much he had been aching for it until it happened. The warm and wet appendage lazily lapped over the bruise, covering it in his saliva. The light pressure on the bruise made Haruka wince slightly in pain, but the pleasure was also there and building.

Makoto placed a gloved hand on Haruka's skin and the young master squirmed, not quite liking the feeling of the fabric. He preferred Makoto's bare hand, warm and calloused, against his own. But how could he possibly say something like that out loud?

It turned out he didn't need to. Makoto raised his gloved hand to his teeth and pulled it off using them. Lately Haruka realized two things; one, pulling off the gloves with his teeth was Makoto's habit; two, it made him feel incredibly aroused watching it.

Bare skin slid over bare skin. Makoto's finger dipped into his own saliva on Haruka's bruise and used it to trace little patterns, much like an artist with paint and a blank canvas. Using his 'paint', Makoto drew flowers, little swirls, and hearts on the canvas that was Haruka. He blew softly on his drawings and Haruka cried out again at the strange feeling of cold air on wetness that wasn't water.

A wet fingertip traveled upwards towards his chest and traced circles around his left areola. Shuddering, Haruka propped himself up on one elbow and managed to rasp out, "S-Stop..."

"Do you really want me to? Master Haruka," Makoto murmured throatily. His fingertip pressed directly on Haruka's nipple, causing him to gasp and moan quietly.

"Ah! Nn... ah. _Ah_," he became progressively louder as his nipple was rubbed, pressed, and flicked. Then Makoto used two fingers to pinch it and roll it between his fingers and Haruka keened. "Mmm! Ha..."

He was kissed lightly at the corner of his mouth and a trail of kisses was placed leading up to his ear. He whimpered as Makoto's fingers continued to abuse the now perky nub on his chest. "It's become quite hard, Master Haruka," he commented, whispering it in his ear. Haruka flinched away at the tickling warm breath. He had never known his ears to be sensitive but then again he had never felt so aroused until Makoto came along. He gasped out as Makoto pinched the nub between his fingers, a little harder this time. "Oh? Does it hurt? Then..." his servant's voice turned devious, "... should I also lick this part of you...?"

Haruka's eyes widened at the idea and his face – no, his entire _body_ – reddened at the idea. Makoto's mouth, that mouth _and_ that tongue, on his...

"Or perhaps, Master Haruka..." he felt teeth nip at the cartilage of his ear and he gave a wanton moan. He felt Makoto's other hand traveling downwards towards his trousers. "I should lick you _down here..._"

* * *

_Wow... what am I going to do for the next chapter? And how many of you hate me for the cliffhanger? MWUHAHAHAHAHA._


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